


The Appealing Pirate Life

by SCFrankles



Category: The Last Saskatchewan Pirate - The Arrogant Worms (Song)
Genre: Adventure, Excitement, Gen, Humor, Various Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 22:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCFrankles/pseuds/SCFrankles
Summary: Piracy is a very appealing life indeed, as Jack and Bob are about to find out.





	The Appealing Pirate Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Truth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Truth/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide!
> 
> * * *
> 
> If anyone is not already familiar with The Last Saskatchewan Pirate by [The Arrogant Worms](https://www.arrogantworms.com/), you can find the song on YouTube [here](https://youtu.be/DuGGNsE3_8Y), and the lyrics on genius.com [here](https://genius.com/Arrogant-worms-the-last-saskatchewan-pirate-lyrics). 
> 
> Thank you as always to my sister for the beta.
> 
> And many, many thanks to [rusty_armour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusty_armour)—long time Canadian, first-time Canadian-picker—for her hard work, her patience, her enthusiasm and her supportive comments, and just going above and beyond the call of duty. I was so grateful for her help.
> 
> * * *

A fine day was dawning over the Saskatchewan River. A pleasant temperature, a gentle wind, and just enough red on the horizon to make a Mountie’s tunic. 

No, wait—that _was_ a Mountie’s tunic.

Up on deck Bob waved across the water to his former colleague on shore. 

“Hey there, Kyle! Dress uniform today, is it?”

Mountie Kyle waved back. “Yes, indeed! The new commanding officer’s coming for an inspection!”

“Oh.” 

Bob furrowed his brow. 

“There’s nothing for you to worry about, is there? Not more cutbacks on the horizon?”

“Oh, no! It’s just an inspection. And he probably wants to discuss…” Kyle gestured vaguely at Bob and the ship. “...your situation.” He smiled a little awkwardly. “You know. The… pirate thing. Sorry.” 

He cleared his throat.

“So how is it going with _your_ new commanding officer. Everything okay...?”

Bob could hear Tractor Jack down below singing happily to himself. He was generally fairly inventive with lyrics, though less so with melodies and seemed to be singing his song to an approximate version of “All By Myself”: 

_“Coming… down the plai-ai-ains. Stealing wheat and barley and… other grai-ai-ai-ains…”_

Bob hesitated. “Everything’s fine. We’re keeping cheerful. Made a couple of good hauls recently.”

Kyle was smiling awkwardly again. “I know. The reports were pretty thorough.”

Bob looked awkward in his turn. “Of course, yes.”

“So…” said Kyle. 

Bob was familiar with the approaching attempt at nonchalance.

“...just wanted to stop by… See if you wanted to turn yourself in today?”

Jack had begun a new verse. His voice drifted up from the galley: _“It used to be… Just a skull 'n' bones for company…”_ Bob brought his attention back to Kyle. “Um, not today, sorry. I need to give this a proper try, you know?”

“Are you sure?” Kyle checked his watch. “I have… a quarter of an hour before I need to get going?”

Bob nodded firmly. “I’m sure.” 

“Okay then!” said Kyle. “Sorry to keep going on about it.”

“It’s fine.” Bob attempted a smile. “You have to do your job.”

Kyle held up a hand in farewell. “See you again tomorrow?” 

“If we’re still in the area!” 

Mountie Kyle gave him a thumbs-up and went on his way. 

Bob sighed and went below. 

“Arr, matey!” 

Tractor Jack turned around from the stove at Bob’s approach and a wicked smile slowly spread across his face.

“Salty Bob! Me shipmate! Me comrade in arms! What would you like—” 

His voice spoke of cruelty, dark deeds, a ruthlessness not to be crossed. 

“—for breakfast today?”

“Do you _have_ to do the accent this early in the morning?” Bob sat himself at the galley table. “So what do we have at the moment?”

Jack reverted to his normal voice and began ticking options off on his fingers. “Well, there’s cream of wheat porridge… Rye porridge… Barley porridge… Bran porridge… Millet porridge… Oh! Wild rice porridge!”

Bob half-slumped across the table top. “Nothing else?”

Jack looked thoughtful. 

“There’s always oatmeal?”

Bob moaned ever so quietly. “You know,” he said, addressing the table’s surface, “this isn’t entirely what I imagined being a pirate would be like.”

“Oh, come on. You just need to be cheered up a bit!” 

Jack grinned. 

“And I’ve been keeping this as a surprise but… Well, I can now reveal I’ve been fermenting.”

Bob looked up warily. “Have you?” 

“Yes! You can be the first to try my barley wine!”

Jack crossed to a small cupboard, whipped out a bottle of dark fluid and poured out a mugful. “Here you go!”

Bob took the mug. He stared into it, sniffed the contents, and took a cautious sip.

He paused.

After a moment he swallowed.

“What do you think?” said Jack excitedly. “Do you like it?”

“It’s definitely… made an impression.” Bob put the mug down again. “Probably shouldn’t drink it first thing in the morning though? I mean, we do have work ahead of us.”

“You’re quite right!” 

Jack turned to the galley wall, where a chart was pinned up. He ran a finger along the chart until he found what he was looking for. 

“Aha! Farmer Dave should be crossing the Whytock Bridge this morning.”

He turned to grin at Bob.

“It was a marvellous idea of yours to track the farmers’ comings and goings so we could plan when best to attack. Much more efficient.”

Bob gave him a small smile. “I like to try to do my part.” He straightened up in his seat. “So how long do we have before we need to be in position for the crossing?”

Jack turned back to the chart. “Um… forty-three minutes. There's just time for breakfast then!” 

He beamed. 

“Have you decided which porridge you want?”

Bob slumped across the table again. “Just… surprise me.” 

 

 

One of the advantages of working on the plains, apart from it being a very good place to farm, was that it was pretty much impossible for anyone to sneak up on you in any direction. Unless of course a small pirate ship had been waiting _under_ the bridge for you to turn up with your tractor and a trailer full of corn.

Farmer Dave had heard of Jack and Bob’s transformation into Tractor Jack and Salty Bob, but somehow had never truly believed he’d be on the receiving end of one of their raids. But now here they were, waving—it had to be said, not terribly sharp—cutlasses around and demanding his surrender. It was quite bewildering. 

However, he only really started to worry when they tied him up in his cab. He thought of Farmer Wade waiting for him to return home, and decided it might be prudent to ask the pirates not to take him prisoner and hold him for ransom. But Salty Bob just muttered, “I don’t think you’d enjoy the porridge,” which was somewhat confusing, and Tractor Jack said that they wouldn’t take him because he didn’t think they would get anything for him, which was just plain rude.

They offloaded all his sacks of corn onto their boat, and then just when he thought they were finally going, Salty Bob came back and pinched his flask of coffee and his Timbits.

All in all it had been a heck of a morning. 

 

 

“Sugar! Fat!” 

Bob popped another Timbit into his mouth and chewed ecstatically. 

“Dear God, I’ve missed this.” 

He took a slurp from his mug. 

“And _coffee!_ It’s been so long!” 

He smiled beatifically at Jack. 

“It was a magnificent haul today!”

Jack regarded Bob with some bemusement from the other side of the galley table. “We did get some corn as well, if you remember…?”

“Yes! Corn!” Bob smiled dreamily. “We can have corn on the cob… Corn fritters…” 

“Well, it’s actually field corn, you know,” said Jack. “Used for animal feed.”

“I don’t care!” Bob threw his arms wide, realized he was danger of sloshing the precious coffee about and put the mug down. He looked at Jack. “It’s still perfectly suitable for human consumption, isn’t it? Anything for a change!”

Jack considered Bob’s hopeful, sugar-covered face. “Look, if you’re that desperate for something different, well… I have some lentils buried somewhere for emergencies.” 

He stood up and went to rummage in a drawer, and returned to his seat with a treasure map—a large, black X marking the spot to dig. 

Bob stared down at the map, and then stared up at Jack. “You… buried the lentils?”

Jack looked puzzled. “Well, not without making a map first.”

“I… don’t think we’re going to need the map to find the lentils again,” said Bob. 

Jack furrowed his brow for a moment. 

_“Oh.”_

He snatched the map back and threw it over his shoulder. 

“All right, the lentils are out. So, what about selling the corn? I have a reliable middleman for whenever I want to sell anything. We can get a reasonable price and then we can sail up to Saskatoon to the Co-op and buy whatever we want!”

“I don’t know. Sounds a bit too risky to me.” Bob frowned. “I really don’t feel up to the embarrassment of being arrested by my former colleagues at the moment.”

“Fine. Fine! We won’t sell it then. But...” Jack beamed at Bob. “I suppose we could just make it into corn whiskey instead! Now I have the hang of fermenting.”

There was a pause.

“You know, what?” said Bob. “Let’s give selling the corn a try.” 

He picked up his mug again. 

“So how do we contact this middleman?”

 

 

It had been one of the more unusual call-outs for Mountie Minwaadizi: a haystack and two scarecrows seen behaving suspiciously on the edge of a field. 

She and Kyle had followed it up, naturally, making as discreet an approach as they could manage. Then when challenged, haystack and scarecrows had made a run for it in opposite directions. She’d gone after the haystack and quickly managed to catch it and inform it of its rights. Putting the cuffs on had been a little tricky though. 

Kyle had continued after the scarecrows, who were heading for a rowboat on the shore. But both of them were clearly in peak condition and reached the boat before he could catch them. And once they were on the water, all Minwaadizi and Kyle could do was watch them pull away to their ship.

 

 

The two pirates flung themselves down onto the deck.

“Thank heavens we’re safe!” said Bob, pulling off his mask.

“Yes!” 

Jack already had his own mask off. He half-sat up and turned to look at Kyle on the shore, before collapsing down again. 

“And I’m not saying I’m not happy about the situation, but I really don’t see why the RCMP just doesn’t buy a couple of boats.”

Bob lay on his back staring up into the sky. “Remember the cutbacks? They can’t afford any boats. Let’s just be grateful they can't.”

He sat up and then staggered to his feet, to watch as Kyle made his way back to help with detaining Jack’s middleman.

Jack got up too, and came to stand a little behind Bob. “I feel bad about ‘Needles’ though. Getting caught because of us.”

“He must have known the risks. And I expect he’ll be fine—there’s not a lot he can be charged with.”

Bob sighed as the haystack was led away.

“We really can’t go on like this though. Either trying to eat all the grain ourselves, or trying to sell it. I agree selling it is a good idea but it means we’re putting ourselves in danger twice over.”

“What do you suggest then?” 

Bob turned to look at Jack. “Well… I’ve been thinking about Farmer Dave. Him believing we were going to hold him for ransom. Perhaps… Well, perhaps there might be something in that.” 

Bob’s face was deadly serious.

“We just have to make sure that everyone knows we mean business.”

 

 

The next morning Farmer Dave’s partner Farmer Wade woke to find an ear nailed to the farmhouse door. 

An ear of _corn._ But still. Waste of good cereal. 

Wade called for Dave, and together they read the attached note. Which gave them the details of how to hand over the ransom to get the rest of their corn back...

 

 

Bob and Jack huddled together behind a barn in the semi-darkness, clutching their cutlasses. 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” whispered Jack.

Bob patted his shoulder with his free hand. “I’ve thought it all through. If I have the percentage right, and I think I have, then Dave and Wade will happily hand over the ransom because they can still sell the corn and make a profit. And once they’ve handed over the cash, we’ll give them the information as to where we’ll leave the corn.”

Jack didn’t look convinced. “But are they really going to want to give us the money upfront?”

“They’ll have to be prepared to take the risk if they want their corn back. And if they don’t want to take us up on the deal…” 

Bob shrugged. 

“Well, we’ll still have the corn. But if they _do_ take us up on it, once they get the corn back they’ll know we can be trusted about this. Word will get around, farmers will put up less of a struggle when we attack because they’ll know it’ll only be temporary grain-napping, and eventually we might not need to steal from them at all! We just make a few threats and they hand over the money.”

Jack’s expression was uncertain. “Not sure I’m happy about that. I like the pirate stuff. I don’t want to go into the protection racket.”

Bob sighed. “Me either, to be honest. But it would make it less likely that we end up in custody.” 

He paused. 

“Hang on.”

A vehicle could be heard approaching. Bob put his head around the corner of the barn.

He pulled his head back and turned to Jack.

“Here he is. Just Dave and one tractor as we specified.”

Bob led the way out into the open, and the two of them watched the lights of the tractor as it headed towards them. 

But when the tractor was about twenty metres away, suddenly two other tractors eased out from behind it. They switched on their lights and increased their speed to catch up with the first tractor and form an imposing row of three. 

“Damn! They were in single file!” Bob spun to stare at Jack. “Dave has double-crossed us. It must be the Mounties! ”

“So let’s _run!”_

Jack set off at a lightning pace.

Bob hesitated for a moment and then shoved his cutlass into his belt and sprinted after him. He glanced behind him briefly. “What’s the point though!” he yelled. “We can’t outrun tractors!” 

“We don’t have to!”

After they had drawn the tractors off their original path, Jack abruptly changed direction and headed back to the barn.

Bob frowned, but carried on following him.

Jack used his cutlass to pry off the lock. Then he flung the door open and got inside, Bob close on his heels.

“Come on!” panted Jack. He pushed his cutlass into his belt. “They’ll think they have us trapped, and they’ll get off the tractors and follow us in.”

“But we are trapped!” said Bob.

Jack pointed up towards the hayloft. 

“No, we’re not.”

He scrambled up the ladder into the loft with Bob close behind. He pointed at the upper door and they got it open, the door swinging down with a heavy bang. 

“Right. Now we can go down using the pulley. Get some bales together!”

They fashioned a rough staircase and Jack was able to climb it to reach the pulley. He yanked the pulley forwards, stepped out into space and he and the rope disappeared rapidly downwards. 

Below him in the barn Bob could make out the sound of the Mounties entering. He recognized Kyle and Minwaadizi’s voices immediately. The other… Was that Alison? He returned his attention to his escape route. It was no time to be trying to identify old colleagues. He leaned out, grabbed the rope and began his descent, half-climbing down and half-sliding. 

He jumped the last few feet, and ran around the barn until he saw the tractors ahead of him. Jack was in one of them, clearly focusing on the control panel.

Bob scrambled in too, Jack awkwardly shuffling over to allow him a share of the seat.

“What are you waiting for!” said Bob. “Get her going!”

“There’s no key,” said Jack, continuing to concentrate on what he was doing. He had the control panel off and was working on the connections behind it. 

Bob was looking to see if the Mounties had found them yet. “Then what are we still doing sitting in it? Let’s get out and get running!”

“Patience! I’m Tractor Jack! I’ve been around! Do you think I don’t know how to hot-wire a tractor? Ah!”

The engine started.

Bob looked back at Jack. Jack looked up and grinned at him. “Back to the shore!”

They set off just in time. The Mounties had arrived. Minwaadizi and Alison ran to get into the remaining tractors, with Kyle choosing to ride at the front of Minwaadizi’s tractor in the bucket.

Jack glanced behind as he drove. One tractor appeared to be falling behind. “We’re losing them! We’re losing them!”

Bob looked back, and regarded the remaining tractor and Kyle’s determined expression as he rode in front. “I’m not so sure that we are.”

Jack wasn’t paying attention. “Look, there’s the rowboat!”

“And there’s the other tractor coming to cut off our path to it!” Bob looked around wildly. “For God’s sake, turn us around!”

But there was no possibility of doing so. Minwaadizi and Kyle were right behind them, cutting off their retreat.

Jack brought the tractor to a halt. He switched off the engine, and the other tractors became silent too. 

There was a long moment of complete quiet. The pirates were trapped. 

Jack looked at Bob. “So what are we going to do?”

Bob glanced behind him at Kyle and Minwaadizi, and then looked ahead again at Alison’s tractor.

“I’ll tell you what _you’re_ going to do.” 

He looked briefly at Jack and away again.

“You swim out to the ship. I’ll hold them off.”

Jack stared. “Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t just leave you behind. What kind of captain would I be if I abandoned my shipmate?” 

Bob still wasn’t looking at him. “It’s the crew’s responsibility to make sure the captain’s safe so there’s someone in charge of the ship. And… you’ve been so good to me. Taking me in after I lost my job.”

Jack shook his head. “And because of that you’re willing to just let them arrest you?”

Bob pulled out his cutlass. There was a grim look on his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll never let them take me in.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “I can’t let you do this!”

“You can and you will.”

Bob got down from the tractor. Jack scrambled down too. 

Bob gave him a small smile. “Get swimming, captain. That’s an order.”

Jack looked at him in bewilderment. “Aye-aye… I suppose.”

Being careful with the cutlass, Bob pulled him into a hug, and then he gently pushed Jack towards the shore. 

As Jack began to slowly retreat, the Mounties dismounted from their tractors and began to advance. 

Salty Bob stood his ground.

 

 

It was a difficult situation. Minwaadizi and Kyle had been closer to Bob, of course, but Alison had known him too. He’d been a good officer—he hadn’t deserved to go in the cutbacks. But now she and her colleagues had a job to do, no matter what their personal feelings were.

She’d hoped the two pirates would just accept they were defeated but then Bob had raised his cutlass.

This couldn’t end well. But at the same time she couldn’t help but be impressed as he began to wield his sword… 

 

 

“To Salty Bob!”

Standing on the deck, Jack raised the single mug of barley wine with a solemn face and took a deep draught. 

Then he lowered the mug again and turned to smile at Bob standing next to him.

“Are you sure you don’t want some of this to celebrate with?”

Bob returned the smile. “Thanks. But I’m happy with the remains of the coffee.” He took a sip from his own mug. 

Jack shook his head and beamed at Bob. “What you did… It was simply astonishing! The way you used that sword…”

Bob waved a hand modestly. “It was nothing. And I told you to swim back to the ship!”

“Do you really think I’d leave you? And if I had I would have missed that amazing display. The way you scratched all those calculations into the paintwork of the tractor! Showing those Mounties the likelihood of them all losing their jobs in the next quarter of the financial year. You were so convincing! _And_ you got them to leave, so we could return to the ship safely!”

“Well, once they’d accepted their fate, they all went off to let the captain know they were willing to go voluntarily immediately. And they wanted to get their severance payments, and sort out their personal affairs.”

Bob hesitated.

“I suppose I ought to let you know. They said they’ve decided to join us in our life of piracy.”

Jack smiled. “But that’s wonderful. How exciting!” 

Bob looked relieved. “I’m glad you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t!”

Jack furrowed his brow. 

“So, should I start getting the porridge on now?”

Bob patted his arm. “Maybe leave it for a while.”

“I think we’re going to have to leave it anyway.” Jack reached down to set his mug on the deck and pulled a telescope out of an inside pocket. “A ship’s approaching!” 

He focused the telescope a little more. 

“That’s strange. They’re flying the skull and crossbones too. No… It’s a skull with a red horse underneath.”

He handed the telescope to Bob, who took a look himself. “It’s not that band of pirates from Alberta on vacation, is it? Hang on, let me see if I can just focus on who’s at the wheel—”

Bob paused.

“It’s Alison. And there’s Minwaadizi too.”

He removed the telescope from his eye. “The Mounties are joining us in our life of piracy all right. But with their own ship!”

Jack regarded his anxious expression. “But that’s all right, isn’t it? It would have been a tight squeeze on board anyway with all five of us.”

“I suppose so.” Bob still looked worried as the other boat continued to approach. “Yes, I’m sure it’ll be all right. My former colleagues are people of honour! And courtesy! I’m sure they’ll be willing to share the waters with—”

“Um,” said Jack. “Bob…?”

Bob turned slowly, and found a sopping wet Former-Mountie Kyle holding a cutlass to Jack’s throat.

Jack attempted a smile. “It appears he’s swum ahead to mount a surprise attack.”

Bob approached slowly. “Kyle, what are you up to…?”

Kyle gave him a determined look. “That’s _Pirate_ Kyle. And what I’m up to is thinking of myself for once. As you so amply demonstrated to us, nobody ultimately cares about me and my colleagues, so we might as well grab whatever we need.”

The other pirate ship had now drawn near, and with mighty yells Alison and Minwaadizi boarded. During the brief moment that Kyle was distracted, Bob raised his cutlass and yanked Jack from Kyle’s grasp. 

The fighting between the two factions began.

Bob and Jack put up a brave struggle but half an hour later, they had lost their corn, their dignity and their pirating monopoly. 

 

 

It was not the best of times for Farmer Geneviève either. 

The bank had been making threatening noises for a few months now, and she’d really needed to get a good price for her crop of canola. So while taking her barge down the river, it had been a bit of a blow to suddenly see Tractor Jack and Salty Bob come out of a bay and start heading towards her. Though she had tried to outrun their vessel, they’d soon caught up and boarded. 

But just when she thought all was lost, Mounties Minwaadizi, Kyle and Alison had appeared too—the RCMP had finally bought themselves a boat! 

And the Mounties had pulled alongside! 

And they’d gotten on board! 

And they’d started fighting with the pirates and overpowered them! 

And then they’d stolen her cargo!

That last one had been a bit of a surprise, to be honest, and she’d attempted to complain. However, no one seemed terribly interested in her thoughts on the matter, and the Mounties had gone back to their boat with her canola and Tractor Jack and Salty Bob had gone back to their boat with empty hands and glowering faces. 

So she’d taken herself off home again, to find that the John Deere had been repossessed, the bank had written to say they were calling her loan in, and that she’d completely forgotten to restock the wine. That had been the straw that broke the trailer’s suspension, and she’d spent the evening rethinking her life choices. 

The next time there was a pirate attack on the river, a barge flying the skull and crossed canola blooms had joined the fray. 

It was just the start of the pirate explosion. 

 

 

Standing on the deck of his own ship, Jack looked gloomily out at all the other pirate ships on the water. “What’s the tally so far?”

Bob considered his notebook. 

“There’s us, of course, and the Mounties. Though Minwaadizi has now decided to team up with Geneviève I think. And there’s Dave and Wade… After they managed to attack the Mounties and take their corn back, it looks like they got a taste for the pirate life themselves. They then ambushed Donna and Margaret’s barge…”

Jack frowned. “Which wasn’t terribly gentlemanly.”

Bob looked up. “Well, if you recall, Donna and Margaret weren’t that gentlemanly in their response. It was pretty impressive the way they fought back, took possession of Dave and Wade’s boat, _and_ made them transfer their wheat across from the barge.”

Jack sighed. “At least they let Dave and Wade keep the barge.”

Bob nodded, returning his attention to the notebook. He turned a page. 

“Naturally at that point there was a great deal of competition for the remaining spoils. Let’s see… After being repeatedly attacked by the Mounties, Dave and Wade, Donna and Margaret, _and_ Geneviève over a period of five days, Ian and Bruce joined forces and then joined us all on the river with their ship. And from there it just kept snowballing: Jozsef and Emily. Tamara, Debra and Bradley. And Nigel, Carol, Lauren, and Trevor all with their own boats. Oh, and Trevor’s Great-Aunt Essie who was visiting from Ontario has become a general buccaneer for hire.”

Bob paused. 

“I think that’s everyone, isn’t it?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “You might be forgetting Norgrove who _was_ on Nigel’s boat...?”

A muffled voice came from below. “Oo, porridge again! Lovely...” The voice began to sing rather tunelessly. _“Lovely, lovely porridge. Hey! Yes, lovely, lovely porridge. Hey…!”_

Bob closed his eyes for a moment. “No, I hadn’t forgotten we’d captured him during the last skirmish.” 

He opened his eyes again and sighed. 

“I’m hoping to get the ransom negotiations finally sorted out today, but if we can’t come up with twenty-five litres of maple syrup, it looks like we’re going to have to keep him.”

He checked the pages of the notebook again. 

“So pretty much all the farmers from this twenty mile stretch of the river have become pirates. Except, I think… ”

“Lillian!” said Jack.

Bob looked up. “Yes, you’re right.”

“No, I mean, Lillian’s here! She’s crossing the bridge right now!”

“Yes! I see her!” 

Bob scrambled to take his place at the rigging, Jack took his place at the wheel, and they got the ship in motion.

All the other pirate ships were beginning to move as well. The race had begun!

Dave and Wade were making good time in their adopted barge, intent on their destination and paying no heed to the rest of the pirate fleet. Minwaadizi and Geneviève were also pulling ahead. 

“Come on!” muttered Jack, addressing his own ship. 

He was distracted for a moment by a voice down below. 

“What’s going on? Why are we going so fast? Oh, no—the jostling has made me drop my porridge! Oo, that’s an idea for a song. _‘Oh, no! I’ve dropped my porridge! Oh, yes! I’ve dropped my porridge! Scraping it up back into the bowl! Oh, there’s splinters in my porridge’.”_

And so Jack never saw the projectile coming. 

“Ow!” 

He looked to starboard, where a grinning Essie on board Ian and Bruce’s ship was already selecting another onion to throw at him.

He smiled tightly, and opened his mouth to remonstrate. 

“She’s an old lady,” murmured Bob. “Remember your manners.” 

Jack took a deep breath. “If you wouldn’t mind refraining from doing that, ma’am?”

Essie made a _very_ impolite gesture, and then she literally jumped ship, as Jozsef and Emily came close and apparently made a better offer.

Jack rolled his eyes, and he and Bob sped on. 

Nigel was beginning to draw alongside. “Hey!” he yelled. “You enjoying having Norgrove on board?” He smirked. “Got that syrup sorted out yet?”

Bob looked at Jack. “Don’t engage with him. We can’t afford to fall for psychological ploys.”

“Hey! I’m talking to you!”

But while Nigel’s attention was distracted, he was rammed by Lauren in her ship.

Jack kept going but Bob looked back. “Is he okay? Should we stop?”

“We’ve had to have Norgrove on board for two days,” said Jack. “No, we are not stopping.”

Bob turned to face Jack again. “Both boats are fine.” He sighed. “Which unfortunately means they’re both still coming.”

Alison and Kyle passed them at this point, Alison at the wheel. But Kyle merely nodded coldly before turning his attention back to his boat and the bridge ahead of them. 

Bob checked behind again. “Tamara, Debra and Bradley are having some problems with their boat, it looks like. I don’t think they’ll be giving us much trouble. And Trevor doesn’t seem like much of a sailor.”

He looked ahead. 

“And Carol is keeping out to the side… Donna and Margaret too. We still have to beat them to the bridge but at least they aren’t going to be actively getting in our way.”

He furrowed his brow. 

“There’s a couple more boats but I don’t recognize who’s on board…”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Is it the Mounties? I mean, the _actual_ Mounties?”

Bob shook his head. “No, they’re flying the skull and crossbones. They must be brand new pirates.” 

He turned to Jack and shrugged. 

“The situation is getting completely out of hand. The conversion of farmers into pirates is just going to keep spreading, and we’re going to get more and more competition.”

But the two of them had more immediate concerns. They had now almost reached the bridge. 

Several pirate ships had already gotten there before them, and as the others arrived after them they clustered behind. It turned into a shouting match as the ships jostled for position, some of the crew members yelling pretty rude things across the water at one another. 

The attempts to climb the bridge began. There was a great deal of determination, aggression and the use of elbows as defensive weapons on show, but Jack and Bob were the only ones who had done this before and with this advantage they managed to take the lead. 

Dave slipped into the water and had to be retrieved by Wade. Then Geneviève got her pirate pantaloons caught on a strut and had to be untangled by Minwaadizi. And Nigel discovered that wearing a cool pirate eyepatch causes problems with depth perception and had to take it off. 

But very soon there was a heaving mass of humanity on the bridge, pushing and shoving, waving their cutlasses, and yelling at one another to get out of the way.

The only silent person on the bridge was Farmer Lillian. She had witnessed the ships bearing down on her and had hoped to make it across the bridge before they reached it. But unfortunately she was still only three-quarters of the way there when the pirates began to swarm in front of her tractor. She had no choice but to come to a halt and see what developed.

But… nothing really did. The pirates just continued to shout at one another, throw the occasional punch, and attempt to push one another back into the water. She got down from her tractor, and watched the confusion for several minutes, growing more and more frustrated, before finally she abruptly let out an enormous scream.

As one, the pirates fell silent and stared at her.

Lillian glared back. “What on earth is wrong with all of you?” 

She pointed at Jack. 

“I remember you sorting out some extra help for my harvest when I was ill.”

She pointed at Bob.

“I remember you being so kind when I had the burglary.”

She looked around at all the pirates.

“I remember when I got on with my neighbours and we supported each other in good times and bad!”

She gestured back at where her tractor stood with its laden trailer behind it. “Here, take it! Take it all! If this is what it’s going to be like from here on in, then I’ve had enough of being a farmer! I’ll find somewhere safer and friendlier to live! Like… the North Pole!”

She strode forward, pushing through the crowd of pirates. And once she was through to the other side, she kept going, head held high. 

Everyone turned to watch her go. Then they turned to look at each other.

Bob cleared his throat. “You know, perhaps we all need to discuss this.”

There was some nodding of heads and vague mumblings of agreement.

“Maybe… we could spread out a bit more,” said Kyle. “Divide up the river and keep to our own areas...?”

There were more mumblings of agreement but nobody seemed terribly enthusiastic, not even Kyle.

Geneviève spoke up. “It doesn’t really seem like a solution, does it? Not if people are going to continue to join us as pirates. We’re going to eventually end up with the pirates outnumbering the farmers.”

Jack exchanged a look with Bob. “Perhaps,” he said, “we need to rethink things altogether.”

 

 

Jack led the various pirate crews to an isolated island of trees in the middle of a quiet field.

(“I see this is where you buried the lentils,” said Bob.)

They held a thorough discussion and a decision was made to change their ways. To put their differences aside. None of them would be pirates anymore—apart from Essie, who agreed to go to Alberta to try her luck. 

So as there was no longer any danger of having their crops stolen, several of the former pirates decided they would return to their farms. However, Jack and Bob had to come up with a different option. 

After further discussion they formed a cooperative with those that remained: Alison, Kyle, Minwaadizi, Geneviève, Dave, Wade, Donna, Margaret and—against their better judgement—Nigel and Norgrove. 

From now on they would be allies. At last they realized it was wrong for neighbours to gang up on one another. 

Not when they could be plundering the wallets of tourists instead.

 

 

This was not in a criminal sense, naturally. That was truly all in the past. 

Discreet negotiations were made with the RCMP and, as it would have otherwise meant arresting a sizeable proportion of the neighbourhood and as the pirates had essentially been stealing from one another, all previous crimes were let slide. Lillian was contacted and she agreed to return to her farm, in exchange for an apology and some labouring from penitent former pirates. 

Plans were put in motion to sell all the ships belonging to the cooperative’s members. With the proceeds, they built a ship on dry land in Regina and turned it into a pirate-themed restaurant. Also a small piece of farming land just outside the city was bought outright. Fruit and vegetables were planted, some of the resulting produce being kept for the restaurant and the rest sold. 

The work was shared pretty equally, with members spending time on both the farm and in the restaurant, but with a little tweaking to allow members more time in roles they excelled in and to keep them well away from those they were less adroit at. For instance, Nigel was a natural in dealing with the bank manager, while Norgrove wasn’t allowed to take part in any of the restaurant’s musical entertainments. And Jack wasn’t allowed to take any part in alcohol sourcing, but was the hit of both kitchen and entertainment—for the latter taking lead vocals, with Bob on guitar.

 

 

“Testing! One, two! One, two!” 

Jack stepped back from the mike, and smiled around at the empty dining room. Everything was in its place, ready and waiting.

Bob entered with his guitar. “We’re fully booked again tonight!” He sat down on the edge of the small stage and began tuning the guitar.

Jack listened absently for a while. 

“You know,” he said. “After losing my farm, I never thought it could end up like this—friends, pleasant work, enough money to live on...” 

He smiled weakly. 

“...living _inside_ the law.”

Bob halted his tuning, looked up and grinned. “I know what you mean. When I lost my job…” He hesitated. “I thought it was the end of everything. But I think teaming up with you was the best thing I ever did.”

Jack beamed at him. “Me too.”

They smiled at each other for a moment and then Jack stepped back up to his mike. “Come on, let’s get this rehearsal going! How about warming up with ‘The Last Saskatchewan Pirate’?”

“Oh.” 

Bob’s face fell a little. He stood up and got up onto the stage properly. 

“I… don’t think we can do that anymore. I mean, we can warm up with it, but I don’t think we can perform it anymore.”

Jack looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean? It’s our big finale! It always brings the house down.”

“I know but…” Bob hesitated. “You remember you didn’t have a tune for your lyrics, and I found that song about sailing on the Saskatchewan—”

“And I rewrote my lyrics for it, yes. It all fitted together so well.” Jack furrowed his brow. “But we always credit the composers—it’s not as though we’re trying to pass the tune off as our own. And the restaurant has paid the licensing fee.”

“I think we might still have to come up with our own tune in the near future though.” Bob pulled an envelope out of his trouser pocket. “This came earlier. It’s from the composers of the song.”

Jack came closer to see. “Are they making a complaint?”

“They’re certainly not entirely happy. Apparently, you changing the lyrics to a song about plundering on the river…” 

Bob smiled tentatively. 

“Well, they feel that the two of us… have been pirating their music.”

Jack looked at him, and a grin began to slowly spread across his face.

Bob attempted to look grave. 

“They’re serious! It’s not a laughing matter.” 

But he was starting to laugh too. 

“Come on! It’s really not funny!”


End file.
